9 Dragons

9 Dragons

Michael Connelly

latents, Bosch looked up over the wall of his cubicle and saw Gandle escorting the two HKPD detectives back to the conference room. He waved his arm at Bosch, signaling him to come back as well. Bosch held up a finger, telling him that he needed a minute. “Latents.” “Let me speak to Teri, please.” He waited another ten seconds, excitement growing. Bo-Jing Chang might have been kicked loose and might already be back in Hong Kong for all Bosch knew, but if his fingerprint was on the casing of

Gandle stopped by his cubicle on the way out. “Harry, I feel like I’m leaving you in the lurch. What can I do for you?” “There’s nothing that can be done that is not already being done.” He updated Gandle on the searches and the lack of solid findings so far. He also reported that there was nothing new on his daughter’s whereabouts or abductors. Gandle’s face turned sour. “We need a break,” he said. “We really need a break.” “We’re working on it.” “When do you leave?” “In six hours.”

floor to find out what had happened. Harry was able to join the end of a flow of paramedics carrying a stretcher up the steps and into the first level of the building. The commotion and confusion had drawn many of the shopkeepers and customers into a crowd around the elevator alcove. Someone was barking orders at the crowd in Chinese but no one seemed to be reacting. Bosch pushed his way through and got to the rear aisle where the hotel desks were. He saw that the diversion had worked in his

most part it was all ash. Bosch pushed it around some more and soon uncovered a piece of melted plastic. It was charred black and shapeless. He tried to pick it up but it was too hot. He went back inside the apartment. “Ask her when she last used the altar and what it was she burned.” Sun translated the answer. “She used it this morning. She also burned paper money.” Bosch was still standing. “Ask her why she’s lying.” Sun hesitated. “Ask her.” Sun asked the question and the woman denied

over, you said you wanted to stay.” “But not like this.” “I know.” “Will I ever go back to get my things and say good-bye to my friends?” Bosch thought for a moment before responding. “I don’t think so,” he finally said. “I might be able to get your things sent. But you’re probably going to have to e-mail your friends, I guess. Or call them.” “At least I’ll be able to say good-bye.” Bosch nodded and was silent, noting the obvious reference to her lost mother. She soon spoke again, her mind